[split] [se] the ones who sing in the dead of night

ADAM it's not a cry for help, it's just a cry for connection. A grin grew on Adam's lips as he saw Amalia calm down and laugh. While her words weren't particularly cheerful (Adam wondered if the meeting had meant anything to her, but decided to save that question for another time), it was clear she was finding his dumb questions helpful. "I bet his dick was like two centimetres past his balls anyway, right?" He went with her when she pulled him up, rescuing his boots from the mud with heavy schlorp noises and making a mournful whine at the sight of the leather covered in brown smears. It would take hours with a brush to get it out of all the crevices. Looking back up as Amalia spoke, Adam glanced over the fucked up tree. He'd never really been one for nature. "Uh...yeah...I dunno if I've ever seen the Mathair. Do you...know where we are? D'yknow about the fucked up trees of Caido by heart?" Stepping up and around, he looked about them. "...This is still Caido, right?" The idea he might have moved worlds again suddenly struck him, and Adam did look distressed by that, even as he tried to keep an even smile. i'd trade my life and health, to make people pay attention. I'd sacrifice myself for the sake of entertainment.